


This Time For Sure

by thanku4urlove



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: (just a bit), Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Anal Sex, Bottom Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Bruises, Cats, Friends With Benefits, Getting Together, Hand & Finger Kink, Kim Mingyu can Cook, Kisses, Love Confessions, M/M, Oral Sex, Pining, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Sharing a Bed, Top Kim Mingyu, ok wait these tags are a lot so here are some cute ones, these men are just really into each other okay idk what else to tell you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:53:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27310747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanku4urlove/pseuds/thanku4urlove
Summary: Jihoon knew that this was a cliche. That there was a warning somewhere in here, something about having his cake and eating it too. But god, Mingyu was standing there in a loose tank-top and sweatpants, inviting Jihoon to just take a bite, no strings attached. It would be almost foolish to say no.After hooking up at a party, with Jihoon unwilling to commit to a relationship, Mingyu proposes an agreement. No feelings, just sex—and some food, because Mingyu seems unablenotto cook in Jihoon’s kitchen—and Jihoon doesn’t see why not. Years of emotional suppression have him pretty confident that he’ll be able to walk out of this arrangement just as unscathed as he is walking into it.If only Mingyu hadn’t been so damn nice to his cat.
Relationships: Kim Mingyu/Lee Jihoon | Woozi
Comments: 30
Kudos: 325





	This Time For Sure

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this tweet!!](https://twitter.com/yiwoozi/status/1316282017399615489?s=20) yes, it is yet another mingyu/woozi friends with benefits fic which I know are a dime a dozen but hey! the more the merrier amirite  
> (also yes, in case you were wondering, I did name Woozi’s cat that cute Minghao nickname)

Mingyu was heavy. Mingyu was hot too, too hot for Jihoon’s flushed and sweaty skin, but it wasn’t terribly uncomfortable, and Jihoon didn’t think he could get Mingyu to move, even if he wanted to. He didn’t really want to. 

After a moment though, Mingyu moved anyway. He rolled off of Jihoon, his chest heaving, turning his head to press a kiss to Jihoon’s damp shoulder. 

“You’re so sexy,” Mingyu said, and Jihoon couldn’t help a laugh. He felt… He felt perfect, boneless and blank and still buzzing, just a bit. He knew he should compliment Mingyu back, that Mingyu doubtlessly deserved it, but he couldn’t really form any thought more coherent than “good”, or “big”, or “holy fuck” so he simply didn’t try, unwilling to embarrass himself.

“Thanks,” he finally decided on, and Mingyu laughed back, leaning in closer to kiss his neck this time. Jihoon sighed into the contact, tilting his head back against the pillows. Mingyu began working a hickey under his jaw, the light nipping of his teeth and hot slick of his tongue causing arousal to pool again in Jihoon’s stomach, going pliant underneath Mingyu on the mattress, rubbing a small circle into the smooth skin of Mingyu’s hip with his thumb. He was about to curl his fingers in Mingyu’s hair and pull their mouths together again when a light scratching started at the bedroom door, followed by a long, insistent yeowl.

Jihoon groaned, Mingyu laughing and pressing his face into the pillow above Jihoon’s shoulder. 

“Eisa wants in,” Mingyu told him. 

“Yeah,” Jihoon responded. She must have just now discovered a door that wasn’t open, and since she was a cat, that simply wasn’t allowed. Jihoon was still having a bit of a problem stringing words together; he still felt so good. “But—cat. No thumbs. And the door’s closed.” 

“Okay,” Mingyu said, amusement in his voice, “but—oh, I really should get going.” 

That, _that,_ was what Jihoon truly had been dreading, the moment when the post-orgasm haziness faded, and Mingyu wasn’t his anymore. Not that Mingyu ever really was, but still—it felt like that, sometimes. Eisa was still scratching, and at the sound of voices, meowed again.

“Yeah?”

“I actually do have to meet my coworkers for dinner, remember? I shouldn’t be late.” 

“Oh, right,” Jihoon said. Mingyu had been on him immediately upon coming over, kissing him hard, sweeping Jihoon into his arms and carrying him into the bedroom, tossing him onto his bed with the perfect amount of roughness and kicking the door closed. He’d told Jihoon, his lips against Jihoon’s collarbone, already pulling Jihoon’s shirt over his head, that he couldn’t stay long, that he really shouldn’t have responded to Jihoon’s _you busy?_ text at all.

“But you’re here,” Jihoon had said, and Mingyu had just chuckled, the sound low and warm. 

Jihoon turned his head to see Mingyu getting out of bed, shameless in watching his naked body as he began in the direction of the bathroom, whining a little when he noticed Mingyu taking a detour towards the bedroom door and reaching for the handle. 

“Oh, don’t.”

“Why?”

“I’m sweaty.” That was a full sentence. “Cat hair.” That wasn’t. 

“Oh, okay.” Mingyu laughed, walking back to the bed to kiss Jihoon. Just once, gentle and soft. “You lie there for a minute. I’m going to take a shower.” 

Then he opened the door anyway. Eisa’s slim body slipped in immediately, hopping up onto the bed, meowing insistently at Mingyu for attention. Mingyu smiled at the cat, reaching down to scratch her under the chin before going off to the bathroom. Thankfully, for some wild reason, Eisa wanted to follow Mingyu, sitting outside of the closed bathroom door instead of shedding all over Jihoon. The shower started, and Jihoon sighed. 

Mingyu was gone pretty quickly after that and Jihoon showered too, barely having pulled on shorts and a t-shirt when there was a knock on his front door. Confused and concerned, knowing he wasn’t expecting anyone, Jihoon went to the door and pulled it open. 

He half expected to see Mingyu there, despite Mingyu leaving less than thirty minutes ago, met with the sight of a stranger instead. A stranger that was dressed in a uniform, and holding a bag of takeout in his direction.

“Delivery for Lee Jihoon.” 

“I didn’t order anything,” Jihoon told him. The delivery man read his address to him from the receipt, asking if that was his residence and if he was Lee Jihoon. And yeah, this was his apartment and that was his name, but that didn’t change the fact that he hadn’t ordered food.

“It’s already paid for.” The poor service worker seemed exhausted, thrusting the bag in his direction. “I don’t care what you do with it.” 

Free food was free food, and it smelled good, so Jihoon took it. Then he had a hunch, pulling the fried chicken and coke from the bag and taking a photo of it, sending it to Mingyu with a slew of question marks. 

_From: Kim Mingyu  
_ _Oh, do you not like chicken? Sorry, I thought you did_

Jihoon decided to call him. 

“I’m driving,” Mingyu said as soon as he picked up. 

“What the hell?” Jihoon asked back.

“We usually eat together afterwards. I was in a rush, and I felt bad, so I ordered you something after I got out of the shower.”

“I can buy my own food.”

“You seemed a bit too blissed out to make a phone call.” 

Jihoon felt himself go red from the tops of his ears to the tips of his toes, his whole body flushing with it. 

“Shut up.”

“Don’t worry. I liked it.” There was a cheeky tone to Mingyu’s voice, a bit of pride. 

“I hate you.” 

“Yeah.” Mingyu was _grinning._ “Talk to you later, okay? Have a good dinner, Jihoon.” 

Jihoon hated him. He also hated how hard it was to keep himself from smiling as he ate, batting Eisa away from his meal.

Mingyu had started as a friend of a friend. He was someone Jihoon had met a handful of times when his friends managed to drag him out to events, but Jihoon had always kept talking to him at a minimum, especially one-on-one. Partially because of stranger-related nerves, partially because Mingyu was literally the hottest person Jihoon had ever seen, and partially because whenever they did actually talk for a few brief moments, Jihoon would end up finding Mingyu hilarious in the things he would say and the stories he would tell, and he found his own laughing to be embarrassing, despite Mingyu smiling at him for it. He had a feeling that the laughing and the hotness factor were somehow connected too, and that was just annoying. 

The start of them meeting up to—as Jihoon’s friend Vernon so delicately put it, when Jihoon had gone through a bit of panic to him about the whole thing— _bang it out_ was all sudden, clumsy, and unexpected. Vernon had dragged Jihoon to a party, insisting that he hadn’t made new friends, eaten good food, or gotten laid in way too long, and needed an evening of fun. Parties weren’t really Jihoon’s idea of fun, but he liked hanging out with Vernon, and Vernon’s friends were pretty cool, so he’d figured he could try his best to let loose for the evening. 

When Mingyu walked in, fashionably late in a sheer black button-up shirt and pants that looked a little too expensive and fit him a little too well, Jihoon had taken one look at him, swore under his breath, and knocked back the rest of the drink in his hand. Then he choked, not used to alcohol, and Vernon’s boyfriend Seungkwan gave him a concerned frown and rubbed him on the back.

Mingyu was happy, loose and loud and talkative. He approached Jihoon multiple times throughout the evening, making valiant attempts to engage him in conversation, Jihoon trying to reciprocate and usually having moderate success until Mingyu was dragged away by someone else. Bewilderingly, Mingyu seemed very interested in what he had to say, interested in Jihoon’s thoughts, or his responses to questions. And… And he laughed loudly when Jihoon would make a joke, and liked to touch Jihoon’s upper arm, and as unlikely as it seemed, as the night progressed, Jihoon didn’t need Vernon’s pointed looks to realize that Mingyu was flirting with him. 

Jihoon got himself a little bit tipsy. Years of finding alcohol borderline intolerable but drinking it anyway had made Jihoon very aware of his limits, and he wanted only to loosen up, to be able to talk back, to keep himself from feeling too embarrassed when he spoke and quell the socially awkward desire to full-tilt run the other way at Mingyu’s obvious—confusing, but obvious—advances. He still wasn’t tipsy enough to say yes, though, when Mingyu tried to drag him out into the middle of the room to dance with him, not keen on being the center of attention. The declination didn’t deter Mingyu, stepping into Jihoon’s space where they were standing instead, putting a hand on Jihoon’s waist and swaying a bit. 

“This okay?” Mingyu asked him. Jihoon liked dancing, and Jihoon liked Mingyu, who was even hotter up close, all broad chest and strong arms and tan skin, with a small scattering of perfectly placed moles and freckles on his face and neck. He nodded. 

Mingyu didn’t really know how to dance, but he knew how to get into Jihoon’s personal space, and somewhere in the middle of the song, Mingyu leaned in close enough to kiss him, meeting his eyes, eyebrows tilted in question. Jihoon nodded again, so Mingyu did kiss him, pulling him impossibly close. He was so warm, warm and firm, his mouth inviting and soft and opening easily for Jihoon’s tongue. 

The kiss turned hungry quickly, and in maybe ten minutes Jihoon found himself tucked away with Mingyu in some dark bedroom, pressed against the wood of the door, biting down hard on his fist as he looked down at Mingyu, who was on his knees in front of him. 

Mingyu’s mouth was even better like this, so hot and wet and Jihoon couldn’t manage out much more than “good, so good, you’re so good,” as he curled a hand in Mingyu’s hair. The words weren’t much but they had Mingyu moaning, Jihoon’s fingers clenching tight and tugging in return. Mingyu pushed him even harder into the door, swallowing around him, his nose pressing against the skin and hair below Jihoon’s navel as he dug his fingertips into Jihoon’s hips. It was a tight hold, a vice-grip, but Jihoon needed it; Mingyu looked up at him, near-teary eyes, hollowed cheeks, and dark lips, and Jihoon was coming down Mingyu’s throat, his knees turned completely to water, Mingyu’s hold on his hips the only thing keeping him standing. 

The way Mingyu held onto him was only thing left over when Jihoon woke up the next morning. He’d brushed his teeth and stripped before simply crashing into bed upon arriving home, pulling back the covers and looking down at the light bruises on his hips in amazement, sucking in a gasp when he reached down and pressed on one of them, finding it tender. 

The reddened-purple marks stood out starkly against his pale skin and Jihoon touched a fingertip to each of them, pressing in gently, feeling the ghost of Mingyu’s hands on him. The night before came flooding back at full force, Jihoon unable to hold in the sound that passed his lips. He had to get up from bed quickly to avoid needing to wash his sheets, arousal curling in his stomach so fast that he was almost lightheaded as he stepped into the shower. Eisa was not pleased about breakfast being so late. 

Mingyu had ended up texting him about a week later, saying that he’d gotten Jihoon’s number from a friend, that he’d had a great time, and wanted to know if they could meet up again. That his evening was free, if Jihoon wanted to come over. Jihoon didn’t know what to do, floored with how forward Mingyu was being, but before he’d managed to think up a response, Mingyu sent him a selfie to use as a contact picture. The little reminder of how hot Mingyu was seemed to short-circuit Jihoon’s brain just a bit, but it was also easier to respond to, Jihoon sending a selfie back. He didn’t realize until the picture was sent that Eisa was in the background, Mingyu zeroing in on the little black kitty immediately, calling her cute.

 _Dogs are better though,_ he’d sent, and Jihoon had to disagree immediately, saying they sure, they were fun, but he didn’t like being licked. 

_Oh? People say I’m like a puppy, and I’m fun. What if it was me, with my tongue on you?_

It was kind of the worst line Jihoon had ever heard, so he was desperately hoping that already having some experience with Mingyu’s mouth was why that line somehow, for some reason, was working on him. If Mingyu could be forward, then so could he. 

_To: Kim Mingyu  
_ _Address?_

It took stepping up to Mingyu’s apartment door and lifting his fist to knock for Jihoon to realize that he was completely out of his element, and had absolutely no idea what he was doing. He didn’t have any time to back out, though; Mingyu must have seen him approach through a window, because the door was pulled open and Mingyu was stepping up to him, leaning in and down to cup Jihoon’s face in his hands, kissing him. The kiss was sudden and strong and hot as hell, Mingyu walking backwards as he pulled Jihoon through the doorway and into the living room. He stumbled over the leg of his own coffee table and fell onto the couch, Jihoon falling with him, and that was where they stayed for the next hour, Mingyu grinding Jihoon down onto his lap. 

“...Your couch is gross now,” was the first thing Jihoon said, when he got his breath back. Mingyu glanced over at him, gloriously naked, every part of him damp with sweat, his mouth open as he breathed, his head tilted back against the cushions. Then he just began to laugh, leaning in to kiss Jihoon again, and any awkwardness that could have formed was broken before it even began. 

“You hungry?” Mingyu asked him. “I made myself dinner last night, and I have leftovers.”

Jihoon blinked at him. He hadn’t expected that. The question was a welcome one though; he was always hungry. 

“Are we going to get dressed first?” he asked back, and Mingyu laughed again. Mingyu gave him some clothes to wear, all of them too big, the armholes of the offered tank-top showing off an indecent amount of skin, while the legs of the sweatpants were almost embarrassingly too long. Mingyu was grinning while looking at him, so Jihoon punched him in the arm. The food Mingyu presented was just straight from his fridge to the microwave to a plate, but it was good, surprisingly good, and they sat together at Mingyu’s small kitchen table to eat. 

“So… am I crazy?” Mingyu asked. “Or is there some chemistry here?” 

Feelings, and talking. Two things that Jihoon was considerably bad at. He put some more food in his mouth, hoping Mingyu might just carry on by himself. Mingyu waited patiently instead. 

“You’re not crazy,” Jihoon finally told him. 

“Like, we—we have nothing in common,” Mingyu said. He looked a little amazed. “Except, well, looks obviously--”

Jihoon felt blindsided by that, but Mingyu wasn’t slowing down, so he didn’t try to object.

“—but we’re good together. At the physical stuff, at least. Or, I think so.”

His glance Jihoon’s way was expectant, hopeful, and Jihoon nodded, swallowing hard around a bite of rice. He’d never been so plainly told that he was hot, and that he was good in bed. Everything Mingyu was saying in this conversation, especially with the conviction with which he was saying it, was catching Jihoon completely off guard.

“No, yeah.” He nodded again. “Good. Definitely good.” 

Again, Mingyu was grinning. Jihoon felt he probably deserved to do that, with the way he’d had Jihoon so blissed out and weak-kneed just half an hour ago, so he didn’t try to punch him this time. 

“I, uh...” Mingyu trailed off as he got to his feet, holding a hand out to take Jihoon’s now-empty plate. Jihoon handed it over, and Mingyu put them both in the sink. “I wouldn’t mind doing this again.”

“Again?” Jihoon echoed, feeling slightly faint with surprise. “Like... now?”

“No—well.” Mingyu leaned back on the arms he had bracing himself against the counter behind him, tilting his chin in thought. “I... that’s not what I meant. I meant making this,” he pointed a couple of times between himself and Jihoon, “a, you know. A thing.”

“A thing?” Jihoon had the sudden worry that Mingyu might try to ask him out. That Mingyu was trying to date him. And Jihoon knew he was a bad boyfriend, knew that the people he’d tried to date in the past had felt neglected, and that he hadn’t missed them when they were gone. He didn’t want to do something like that to Mingyu. He was afraid of doing something like that to Mingyu. “I don’t think...” 

“It doesn’t have to be official,” Mingyu said quickly. “Not like, a whole thing. Just... Just this.”

“Oh.” Jihoon had to sit there for a moment to let that sink in. He’d never been propositioned before. He couldn’t say he hated it. “So no feelings, just sex?”

“Something like that.”

Jihoon knew that this was a cliche. That there was a warning somewhere in here, something about having his cake and eating it too. But god, Mingyu was standing there in a loose tank-top and sweatpants, inviting Jihoon to just take a bite, no strings attached. It would be almost foolish to say no. Jihoon knew he didn’t have feelings for Mingyu now, and he had years of emotional repression under his belt. So he nodded. 

“Okay, sure.” 

Mingyu smiled. “Cool.”

The first few times after that, orchestrating their hookups was a little shaky, a little uneven and awkward. Mingyu texted him first, about a week later, the message simple. 

_From: Kim Mingyu  
_ _Hey, how are you?_

Admittedly, Jihoon’s response could have been more tactful, but he figured it might be better to cut through any filler conversation. 

_To: Kim Mingyu  
_ _What, do you want to have sex?_

_From: Kim Mingyu  
_ _...do you talk to all of your friends like this?_

Oh. Oh, fuck. Mingyu had been genuinely, innocently asking him how his day was going. Before Jihoon even had time to start pushing his panic aside to think of a response, Eisa jumped up into his lap. The cat knocked into his hands, his thumbs slipping over his phone screen, sending Mingyu a rather eloquent _lajdksgdk._ Then, quickly, _Sorry, that was my cat._

_From: Kim Mingyu  
_ _Okay, sure it was_

Jihoon sent a photo back as proof, Eisa curled up on his crossed legs, her black fluffy fur blending in with the dark shorts Jihoon had on. 

_From: Kim Mingyu_  
_Fine, I believe you  
_ _Love the shorts, by the way_

Then, about a minute later,

_I get off work in two hours if you want to come over_

Jihoon couldn't help but wonder, as he made his way to Mingyu’s, if he had just successfully—albeit accidentally—thirst-trapped someone. 

The next time he went to Mingyu’s, they were on the couch for only a couple of minutes before Mingyu picked Jihoon up by the waist without warning, Jihoon’s legs going around Mingyu automatically, looking at him in a confusion just barely strong enough to cut through the rolling current of just how hot it was that Mingyu could so easily lift him up and hold him. 

“Tired of buying upholstery cleaner,” Mingyu explained, leaving their discarded shirts on the living room floor and opening his bedroom door. That broke Jihoon down completely into laughter, clutching at Mingyu’s shoulders, unable to stop smiling enough to kiss him back properly. Mingyu laid Jihoon down on his bed and began kissing a line down his chest, but Jihoon was still trembling with giggles, and Mingyu ended up laughing too, sitting back just to watch him and wait for him to regain some semblance of composure. 

“Fuck, you’re cute,” Mingyu told him, and Jihoon kicked him in retaliation for the compliment, Mingyu grabbing his leg and tugging, pulling Jihoon into his lap. 

It was the best sex that Jihoon had ever had. The laughter made things comfortable, Jihoon able to genuinely communicate his wants and needs, and Mingyu was an attentive, quick, enthusiastic learner. As their arrangement progressed, Jihoon learned things about Mingyu, too.

He learned that Mingyu thought his hands were really nice, and liked his fingers, especially when they were around his dick or inside his mouth. He learned that Mingyu was intoxicatingly vocal, prone to thoughtless, whining babbling when he felt too good, and getting him to that point was incredible, something that Jihoon began making a personal goal whenever they met up. 

He learned that the absolute best thing he could say was how good Mingyu felt, how good Mingyu was being, something that was too true for him not to say out loud. It was sometimes a little strange, to have Mingyu hanging desperately on every word of validation Jihoon gave him when he looked and kissed and fucked like _that,_ but the feeling was mutual; Jihoon would never admit it out loud, but having Mingyu always so eager to meet him, to kiss him, and to rip his clothes off, was great for his self-esteem too. 

Eating a meal together afterwards became a bit of a habit as well. The food was always low effort, just something that Mingyu had already cooked and pulled out of the fridge, but it was always good, and always welcome. 

The entire arrangement felt a little too good to be true, in a multitude of ways; meeting with Mingyu was basically a guarantee that Jihoon was going to have his back blown out by one of the hottest people he’d ever met and be given good food. How comfortable Mingyu was able to make him feel put sex with him as miles better than any of Jihoon’s past hookups, and no encounter that he’d ever had was half as good as the sight of Mingyu on his knees. It felt unlikely that Mingyu was real sometimes, and not some insane, recurring wet dream that Jihoon didn’t want to wake up from. 

Jihoon’s first mistake was breaking from the status quo. They always, always met at Mingyu’s apartment. There was no reason for it except force of habit, but it worked well, so there was no reason to change it, either. But a day came where Jihoon wanted, _needed_ to see Mingyu and Mingyu was actually nearby running errands, so Jihoon sent his address and Mingyu promised to be over soon. 

Mingyu only had to knock once before Jihoon was throwing the door open, Mingyu beaming at him and tugging Jihoon into his arms. Then there was a chirruping meow, Mingyu breaking the kiss to look down. Eisa was there, rubbing her body against Mingyu’s legs.

“Hello!” Mingyu exclaimed, the smile in his voice incredible, first bending, then kneeling to pet her. “You’re such a cute kitty, such a pretty kitty aren’t you?” 

Eisa was purring like a motorboat, getting up to place her front paws on Mingyu’s knee so he could more easily scratch at her cheeks and under her chin, and everything about the situation was weird. Mostly because Eisa was usually much more wary of strangers, preferring to watch and wait before even being in the same room. Mingyu’s enthusiastic reaction also felt like a bit much, because while Eisa was definitely the cutest cat on the planet and also the complete light of Jihoon’s life, she was also just a plain black cat. The second half of that thought might just have been Jihoon’s neediness, though; he’d been half hard for the past half hour, and if Mingyu didn’t start touching him soon, he was going to start throwing things. 

“Hey, are you here for her or for me?” Jihoon asked him.

“Oh, her, definitely,” Mingyu responded, glancing up at Jihoon with a grin on his face, and Jihoon kicked Mingyu in the butt. Mingyu made a sound like he’d been mortally wounded, though Jihoon knew that the contact hadn’t been nearly enough to hurt at all. “Hey! You shouldn’t kick the things you like.”

“What, you?”

“Yeah, my butt. I know you like it.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. Mingyu got to his feet, cupping Jihoon’s face in a kiss. They made it to Jihoon’s couch, Jihoon attaching his lips to Mingyu’s neck and letting his hands trail down Mingyu’s firm chest, using the fingers of one hand to tug at the button of Mingyu’s jeans, palming at his quickly growing bulge with the other when he was stilled by the step of a pair of tiny paws. 

Eisa had jumped up into Mingyu’s lap. She was meowing insistently, rubbing her forehead against his chest, and Mingyu let out a laugh that was laced with a small string of suppressed neediness. 

“Hi there,” he said again, petting the cat obligingly. Jihoon was about ready to die, part from horniness and part from embarrassment, and he got up from the couch to walk the short distance from the living room to the kitchen, clicking his tongue. The beckoning sound didn’t get Eisa to follow him but the clinking ceramic slide of him lifting the lid from the butter dish did, Eisa rushing expectantly into the kitchen. Jihoon took a small swipe of butter and smudged it across Eisa’s nose, who drew back before sitting there on the floor, licking at her own nose in confusion. 

“That’ll buy us about fifteen minutes,” Jihoon said, Mingyu letting out a loud laugh at the sight of the perplexed but happy kitty, Jihoon grabbing at Mingyu’s arm to tug him into the bedroom and shove him down onto the bed. Mingyu fell onto his back easily, still grinning. 

“Someone’s eager,” he remarked, as Jihoon got back to taking off Mingyu’s pants, tugging the button open and the zipper down. Then he got his hand around Mingyu’s dick, replacing his fingers with his tongue a second later, and all of Mingyu’s cheekiness vanished. 

Two orgasms later, Mingyu released Jihoon’s thumb from his mouth with a wet pop that Jihoon thought he probably shouldn’t find hot, but kind of did anyway. 

“Your cat is cute,” Mingyu told him, and Jihoon sighed into Mingyu’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, she’s usually not so social,” Jihoon told him. “It seems like she likes you.”

“Yay!” Mingyu’s excited reaction was exaggerated, like he’d just won a prize, but it made Jihoon laugh anyway. Then Jihoon realized that they weren’t in Mingyu’s apartment, and he knew he didn’t have delicious leftovers in the fridge, leaning in to kiss Mingyu quickly. 

“Want to order some food?” he asked, and Mingyu grinned. 

Once that unspoken barrier had been broken, both apartments were fair game to meet up at. The eating tradition stayed in place, though Jihoon’s apartment presented a challenge; usually, Mingyu seemed to want to cook something for them. But the times that Jihoon didn’t have proper ingredients—or, one very memorable day where Mingyu’s legs had still been shaky fifteen minutes after they’d gotten out of bed—Jihoon would order some food. 

Knowing that Mingyu was a good cook from eating the food he’d made and actually seeing him in action were two very different things. Jihoon didn’t know if he just really liked to eat or if he actually somehow found knives sexy, but watching Mingyu work in the kitchen was a special experience, embarrassed to admit even to himself that he’d gotten turned on by watching Mingyu chop up three bell peppers in less than thirty seconds. The sexiness of it all was disrupted a bit by the way Mingyu would stumble around, the dangerous combination of natural clumsiness and having a needy cat weaving around his feet making Jihoon genuinely concerned for Mingyu’s life on a couple of occasions. 

It was good to have Eisa there, though. She was a natural topic of conversation with her unwillingness to leave Mingyu alone, something that still baffled Jihoon but delighted Mingyu. 

“She’s only acting cute,” Jihoon said, nodding to the kitty, who was laying by Mingyu’s feet and occasionally rubbing her cheek against his leg. “She wants you to give her your food.”

“But she’s acting so well!” Mingyu exclaimed, reaching down to pet her. Immediately her paws went up, her mouth open as she tugged Mingyu’s hand towards her teeth; Mingyu yelped, retracting quickly. 

“Told you,” Jihoon said, amused. Mingyu looked at his plate. 

“She wouldn’t eat jjolmyeon though, would she?” he asked. “Aren’t cats carnivores?”

“She’ll eat anything.” Jihoon waved a hand. “She was found behind a dumpster as a kitten, so she still thinks she needs to live on human food. I caught her eating an old piece of lettuce off the floor once.” 

That made Mingyu burst out laughing. “You adopted her, then?” he asked, and Jihoon nodded. Many conversations that started with Eisa often drifted to something else, and Jihoon would find himself and Mingyu still sitting around a couple of hours later, just talking. Just talking turned into just hanging out on days where neither of them had somewhere to be, playing video games and making out between rounds of FIFA. It was a bit weird, the shift in the proportion of time Mingyu would spend at his place with his clothes on, but it also didn’t feel like a bad thing, so Jihoon didn’t mind. It was the “friends” part of “friends with benefits”, he supposed. As long as their initial reason for getting together didn’t change, Jihoon could reason that their relationship wasn’t really changing either, despite finding that he liked the talking and the showering together and the watching Mingyu cook maybe just as much as he liked everything else. 

And if he was curating his grocery list to ingredients for recipes that he remembered hearing Mingyu talk about wanting to make, then that was his business. 

He was at the grocery store now, buying food and muttering to himself. He was… He was a little angry, and he couldn’t exactly pinpoint why, but he had a feeling it had to do with the fried chicken and coke that Mingyu had bought for him without asking over the weekend. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, about the kiss Mingyu had given him before going off to take a shower, about the smile that had been in Mingyu’s voice when Jihoon had called him. Mingyu had been the one to travel to Jihoon’s apartment, so Jihoon was supposed to supply the food. That was the deal. But Mingyu hadn’t even eaten.

It was stressing him out. And really, he should have expected it; it took approximately ten days for the other shoe to drop. 

Mingyu hadn’t come over because either of them had been particularly in the mood. Jihoon had sent him a message—granted, it was about a type of vegetable and cut of meat he’d found at the grocery store, two specific ingredients that Mingyu had been looking for to make a dish he’d been talking to Jihoon about for a week—and while it wasn’t exactly a sext, it got Mingyu to his apartment just as fast anyway. Mingyu still kissed him when he crossed the threshold, and still sucked him off in the living room, on his knees in the first five minutes of being there, the whirlwind of it all leaving Jihoon dazed and boneless on the couch as Mingyu went to the kitchen to start cooking. 

The recipe was complicated and long, Mingyu working meticulously, double-checking the steps as he went. It was nice to see him so excited and focused on something, Jihoon hopping up on an unused square of counter space to watch him and occasionally tugging him in for kisses as they talked about how their lives had gone for the past couple of days. The sun had been down for a while by the time the food was finished, but it was so good that it was definitely worth the wait, and the incredibly bright expression on Mingyu’s face when Jihoon told him as much was even better. 

Then Jihoon began realizing how weird, how quiet and comfortable the evening had been, and it had a strange sort of nervousness thumping through his chest. He hoped the feeling was just from the unusualness of Mingyu having been here for so long with his clothes still on, deciding that getting Mingyu off would probably help, gathering a very eager Mingyu around him and pulling him into the bedroom, pushing him down onto the bed, unbuttoning his shirt slowly and kissing a line down his chest. 

He nipped at Mingyu’s nipples and navel as he undressed him, fingering him slowly until he was panting, trembling and crying out and clutching hard to Jihoon as he came, a few tears making tracks down towards his ears. It took twenty minutes of lazy making out for Mingyu to regain the composure he needed to get into the shower with Jihoon, and by the time they were actually clean and clothed it was very, very late. 

Jihoon had himself stretched out across the couch, singing to whatever song his phone decided to play next, realizing that despite the late hour, he’d had no thought of Mingyu leaving. Mingyu, looking sated and cozy and sitting in a chair across from Jihoon, cooing and petting the sleepy Eisa in his lap, didn’t seem to have had that thought either. Until, that was, he stretched his arms up over his head with a yawn. 

I should go,” he said. His eyes looked tired. “I still—I still have to get myself all the way home.”

“It’s against the rules to disturb a sleeping cat, though,” Jihoon said. Eisa was fully asleep, Mingyu looking down at her, his expression going soft. 

“Maybe I should just take her with me then,” he proposed, a teasing lilt to his voice, petting a line down Eisa’s back. She let out a sleepy chirp, starting a rumbling purr a moment later and completely rolling across Mingyu’s thighs, stretching her lanky body out. “I actually bought some toys for her, but I left them at home; I’ll have to drop them by tomorrow.”

Jihoon just blinked at him, floored. His chest—his chest hurt, suddenly, and he swallowed hard. 

“Don’t spoil her,” he decided to say.

“Oh, but she deserves it,” Mingyu defended. “Especially since I’m about to ruin her nap.”

He placed a disgruntled Eisa on the couch cushion next to Jihoon and got to his feet. He was about to leave, and Jihoon… Jihoon didn’t want him to. It was a sudden, sharp realization that he didn’t know what to do with, his hand reaching out to grab at Mingyu’s arm automatically, and then Mingyu was glancing at him, and he had to say something.

“Why don’t you just stay, then?” 

It was Mingyu’s turn to look surprised, and Jihoon found himself scrambling a bit. 

“It—it’s late, and you said you didn’t need to go anywhere tomorrow morning. If you’re tired, you could just spend the night here. I wouldn’t mind.”

He didn’t want Mingyu to leave, because… Because he knew that he would miss Mingyu, the second he was gone. He didn’t want to miss Mingyu. He wasn’t used to missing people. It was new. It was scary. 

After a moment, completely oblivious to Jihoon’s inner turmoil, Mingyu shrugged.

“Sure, okay. Thanks.”

When Jihoon woke up, his bed felt crowded. He scrunched his face and rolled, his cheekbone connecting to something hard. Squinting in the morning light, Jihoon looked up and saw that he’d hit his face on Mingyu’s shoulder. He shifted away, so afraid to wake Mingyu that he didn’t even want to breathe, lifting slowly into a sitting position to take Mingyu in.

He’d seen Mingyu at his most mindless, at his most vulnerable, but somehow seeing him like this, calm and asleep in the pale light coming through the window, was even more intimate. The white bedsheets had slipped down Mingyu’s bare chest from Jihoon sitting up, and he looked so soft, so wonderful, and Jihoon just wanted to press close, press against him and inside him and never let him go. And that—that wasn’t good at all. 

It was like Mingyu knew he was being stared at, his eyes opening. He sat up quickly, before he was even properly awake, blearily taking Jihoon in for just a moment before slumping on him, his head on Jihoon’s shoulder and his arms around Jihoon’s waist, his fingers curling in Jihoon’s thin t-shirt, Jihoon letting out an “oof” of surprise. 

“Morning,” Mingyu murmured. His voice was so perfectly rough with sleepiness, and he was so warm, and Jihoon couldn’t help but reach up and run a hand through Mingyu’s hair. Mingyu let out a contented sort of humming sound. 

“Good morning,” Jihoon murmured back. 

“Let me make you breakfast,” Mingyu said, giving Jihoon a kiss before getting from bed. Jihoon wasn’t able to move for a long time, sitting there, the words replaying in his head and echoing as a flutter in his chest, having the sinking realization that he was in love. That he was completely fucked, in every single way. 

Jihoon’s first solution was repression. Feelings weren’t real if he couldn’t feel them. And in theory, it was a great idea, because then nothing would have to stop. Mingyu could still come over, and Jihoon just wouldn’t feel anything about it. Nothing would change, because the sex was just sex, and the food was just food, and Mingyu being so heart-wrenchingly sweet with Eisa was just common human decency. 

Jihoon quickly found that it wasn’t so easy in practice, though.

It was impossible, impossible to just go through the motions of a thoughtless chase of pleasure when he was in Mingyu’s lap, Mingyu thrusting up into him, murmuring to him, kissing his open mouth and holding his trembling body like he was something precious. Precious was what he wanted, was all he wanted to be to Mingyu, and when he had to swallow down a lump in his throat at Mingyu’s moan of his name, he realized that he couldn’t do this at all. Repression wouldn’t work. It would have to be avoidance instead.

Avoidance didn’t work quite as well in person as it did on paper, either. They texted regularly, since they were friends, were still _friends,_ and Mingyu asked for pictures of Eisa on a near-daily basis. 

“This is your fault,” Jihoon told his cat, who had splayed herself delicately across a couch cushion, her front paws crossed. “He shouldn’t have been so nice to you. You should have bitten him, or something. He’s very biteable.” 

Eisa flicked her tail at his voice, turning one ear in his direction, staunchly refusing to take any responsibility. 

He decided that he simply wasn’t going to have Mingyu come over anymore. And that was working great; he was lonely and miserable. It wasn’t too hard to sidestep the flirty remarks Mingyu would text to him, hints to come over that Jihoon would usually pick up on. His resolve was tested on the times that Mingyu would flat-out ask if he could come over, or if Jihoon was willing to go to his place. Jihoon couldn’t give his real reason for saying no so he had to lie instead, making up excuses. And Mingyu believed them, and wasn’t any more whiny than he usually was, and didn’t ask questions, and it made Jihoon feel terrible. 

It took weeks, but one night, very late, when Jihoon was about to just strip and get into bed, Mingyu called him. Jihoon debated letting it ring, then texting back in the morning and saying he’d fallen asleep early. That would be the smart thing to do. His phone was lying on his bedspread, the screen lit up, and it buzzed a solid five times before Jihoon cursed lowly and answered. 

“Mingyu?”

“Jihoon.” Mingyu’s voice was soft, sighingly, _achingly_ soft and dark. Then there was a hitch in his breath, the exhale a whine, the sound so familiar that Jihoon felt like he’d been electrocuted, his mouth going dry. This was an extremely keyed-up, desperate Mingyu, Jihoon so familiar with the concept that he could picture Mingyu perfectly, on his back on his bed, his eyes closed, head tilted back and mouth open, holding his cell phone to his ear with one hand, touching himself through his clothes with the other. 

“What?” Jihoon asked, unable to make his voice louder than a whisper. Mingyu’s next words had a quick edge of neediness. 

“Miss you.”

Jihoon caved completely, the dam breaking, emotion crashing over his head and threatening to drown him. Mingyu was all over him the second he arrived, up against him in the dark light of his bedroom, all warm hands and hot tongue, pressing in so hard and so good that it almost hurt, pulling cries from him. Mingyu couldn’t stop kissing him, needing his lips somewhere on Jihoon’s skin at every moment, and Jihoon kissed back, more desperate for it than he could even process. 

Mingyu curled around him while Jihoon tried to get his breath back, still pressing soft kisses down his arm. He pulled himself up though, pulled himself away, and got to his feet to search for his clothes. 

“Stay,” Mingyu said, and Jihoon froze. “Stay, please.”

“But… Mingyu—”

“You feed Eisa every night at seven twenty-two,” Mingyu said, getting out of bed, and Jihoon hated how much he loved that Mingyu had noticed the odd time, and remembered it. “She’s already had dinner. She can live without you until tomorrow.” 

“Mingyu…”

Mingyu stepped up behind him, sliding a hand around Jihoon’s waist, where he still had sweat cooling on his skin.

“I have an extra toothbrush in my closet. I have clothes you can wear. Please.”

“Why?” Jihoon finally asked. Mingyu pressed his lips to where Jihoon’s neck met his shoulder, quiet for a long moment. 

“It’s late,” was all he said. Jihoon turned around. Mingyu was just looking down at him, his eyes soft. Maybe Jihoon was weak. Maybe he just missed Mingyu too much.

“Okay.” 

He knew the word was a mistake before it even came out of his mouth, but Mingyu smiled at him, the expression making Jihoon hate himself a little less as they got ready for bed. 

“I do kind of feel bad,” Mingyu said as he clicked the bedroom light back off, finding Jihoon in a way that was almost automatic and pressing close. “Poor Eisa is home all alone.”

“You like her too much,” Jihoon responded, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice. Not from any kind of jealousy; if Mingyu hadn’t liked Eisa, Jihoon’s heart probably wouldn’t have ended up this screwed up. “It’s like you’re only fucking me so you can pet my cat.”

Mingyu burst into giggles. 

“What?” Jihoon asked him. 

“That just sounds like some weird… I don’t know, double euphemism,” Mingyu told him. 

“Shut up,” Jihoon responded, reaching over to pinch Mingyu’s nipple, getting a yelp. “Go to sleep. I hate you.”

Mingyu gave a quiet laugh, the sound vibrating through Jihoon’s bones as Mingyu pulled him in even closer. 

“I hate you too.”

As Jihoon went home the next morning, he told himself that would be the last time. As fate would have it, Mingyu showed up at his apartment two days later, unannounced, with an entire tub of catnip. 

“Mingyu—!” Jihoon exclaimed in surprise, not expecting to see him, while Mingyu picked Jihoon up with his free arm and spun him around, kissing his nose in greeting. Jihoon almost wanted to cry with how hard his heart clenched. 

“I missed your cat,” Mingyu told him, not even looking down at the kitty, his eyes never leaving Jihoon at all; Jihoon couldn’t respond, his lips too busy being kissed. Mingyu carried him all the way to the couch, and Jihoon still felt stunned, using the interruption of Eisa jumping up into Mingyu’s lap to break the kiss and pull away. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked. Mingyu opened his mouth to respond, but there was a knock on the door. Jihoon was too confused for this. He left Mingyu on the couch, met with the sight of the same delivery guy, holding out a similar bag of food and looking just as exhausted. 

“Delivery for Lee Jihoon,” he said flatly, and Jihoon turned back to his living room. Mingyu was wearing a sheepish grin. 

“I was hungry,” Mingyu said. “I ordered it before I left; I thought maybe we’d arrive at the same time.”

Jihoon took the bag, closing the door. His mind was reeling, pointedly ignoring the living room on his way to the kitchen, trying to think of what in the hell he was supposed to do. 

He had food. They could eat. That was easy, right?

He had started separating the food out onto two plates when he heard the disgruntled meow of a dislodged Eisa, and a moment later Mingyu was coming up behind him, sliding his hands onto Jihoon’s hips to pull their bodies flush against each other, pressing a kiss to Jihoon’s neck. Jihoon bit back a sigh, wanting nothing more than to close his eyes, tilt his head back, and surrender against Mingyu’s broad chest. But he’d promised himself, promised that the time before had already been the last, and he was nothing if not stubborn, reaching around and wedging his hand between his back and Mingyu’s stomach and pushing him away. 

“No, no, no. Mingyu, _stop.”_

Mingyu stopped. Mingyu stopped, stepping himself back all the way from the kitchen and into the living room, putting a solid six feet between them, swallowing hard. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, though it was obvious by the confusion and concern on his face that he wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for; every other thing he’d ever done had been met with enthusiastic consent. Jihoon couldn’t blame him for the nervous, bewildered expression, feeling a bit of a lump growing in his throat again. “What’s wrong, Jihoon?”

“Everything!” Jihoon told him. He could still feel the press of Mingyu’s hands on his hips, like they were supposed to be there. “Everything about this is wrong.”

“Jihoon…” Mingyu tried to laugh a bit, but the worry on his face made the sound very unconvincing. “If you tell me that gay sex is a sin or something, I’m going to laugh at you.”

“The sex is the only normal part,” Jihoon told him. “You’re—we’re—that’s all we’re supposed to do. That’s all we’re supposed to be to each other. You’re not supposed to make food for me, or cuddle with me, or buy presents for my cat.” The cat in question was still in the living room, now trying to claw the lid off the catnip jar. It wasn’t the most ambient background noise. “You’re supposed to just, I don’t know, pull your pants back up and leave.”

Mingyu stared at him for a long, quiet moment. Jihoon couldn’t stand to look back, crossing his arms, directing his gaze to his feet. 

“...is that what you want?” Mingyu finally asked, and Jihoon swallowed. He was ready to do this, to break it all off, to break his own heart. Then he looked up, and saw a terrible expression on Mingyu’s face, so open and so hurt that it made his stomach lurch. 

“Why are—Mingyu, why are you upset?” 

“I like all that stuff,” Mingyu confessed, his voice soft. 

“You… You what?” 

“Cooking for you. Holding you. I like that.” Mingyu let out a curse. “I like you, Jihoon.” 

“What?” 

Disbelief. Pure disbelief was all Jihoon could feel, and he needed Mingyu to explain himself. Explain exactly what he meant, and exactly how he meant it. Instead, Mingyu was retreating, was leaving, was turning towards the door. Thankfully, _thankfully,_ Eisa chose that moment to wind herself between his legs, and in an effort not to trip over her, Mingyu tripped over his own feet instead, falling onto the couch. Jihoon had never loved his cat more than he did in that moment, rushing to the couch and pouncing on him. 

“Mingyu—”

“I’m sorry.” The words were quick, cutting Jihoon off. “I know—I know that wasn’t the agreement, that you said no feelings, that I wasn’t supposed to—”

“Mingyu—”

“You’re just so amazing Jihoon, everything about you, I like you so, so much, I love—”

“Mingyu, fuck—”

“And I just—”

Jihoon couldn’t take it anymore, giving up on trying to confess back and just taking Mingyu’s chin in his hand. That startled Mingyu to silence, and Jihoon kissed him. Mingyu groaned into the kiss, kissing him back, letting his head fall back against the couch, letting Jihoon just take what he wanted. So Jihoon did, situating himself in Mingyu’s lap, hoping the way he was kissing Mingyu would get his point across. 

“Wait.” Apparently, it wouldn’t. Mingyu was pulling back, blinking the dazed look off his face, surprised. “Wait, you… You’re not mad.” 

Jihoon blinked back. It wasn’t a question, but he responded anyway. “I’m not.” 

“I’m in love with you, and you’re not mad at me.” 

“Do…” _I’m in love with you._ Jihoon didn’t know what to say. “Do you want me to be mad at you?” 

“Does this mean you like me back?” 

“Like” felt like such a shallow word, but Jihoon didn’t feel that he had the capacity, in that moment, to explain any further, and he nodded instead. 

“Yes,” he managed out, “yes, so much—” 

Then Mingyu was on him again, kissing the air from his lungs. He wound his arms around Jihoon’s waist, then slid his hands under Jihoon’s ass, holding his body close and getting to his feet, walking the both of them to Jihoon’s bedroom. Jihoon knew that Mingyu was trying to put him down on his back on the bed, but he didn’t want to let Mingyu go, and Mingyu ended up on his hands and knees over him on the mattress, Jihoon’s arms still around his neck, his legs still around Mingyu’s hips. Mingyu lowered himself down instead, pressing his face into Jihoon’s shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” Jihoon said. “Sorry for avoiding you so much lately.” 

“That’s what was happening?” Mingyu asked, sounding surprised, Jihoon surprised in return when, at his confirming nod, Mingyu let out a breath of relief. “I thought I was going crazy.”

“What? Why?”

“I missed you so much,” Mingyu confessed. “Wanted to see you all the time. I thought, I don’t know, I was just being annoying. But I couldn’t help it.”

“You’re always annoying,” Jihoon told him, and Mingyu shifted to push himself back up onto the palms of his hands over Jihoon, Jihoon letting go to better see his face. Mingyu was smiling at him.

“Yeah, but you like me,” he responded. Jihoon glanced away, trying to keep his voice and expression neutral, though he could tell from the heat in his face that he’d gone pink.

“You’re being annoying right now,” Jihoon complained, and Mingyu let out a happy hum that turned into a laugh halfway through, leaning down to kiss him. Jihoon kissed him back, kissed him harder, threading his fingers through Mingyu’s hair, kneading and lightly scratching at his scalp with his fingertips. 

It was such a relief to touch Mingyu, for Jihoon to know that he was really, genuinely wanted; his lips, completely unbidden, curled into a smile and Mingyu felt it, smiling back, laughing gently against his mouth. He pulled back to trail kisses down Jihoon’s jaw, down his neck, pausing at the hem of his shirt to wrestle the fabric off him. Jihoon laughed, helping him, and once the shirt was on the floor Mingyu continued, his mouth making a straight line down his chest, all the way to the waistband of the shorts he had on. 

He began sucking a hickey into the sensitive skin of Jihoon’s pelvis, Jihoon feeling the muscles of his lower belly quiver as heat pooled in his stomach. 

“Mingyu,” he murmured, just that, just his name, Mingyu giving a responding groan and sinking down onto his knees, curling his fingertips under the waistband of the shorts and tugging slightly. 

“Want these clothes off you,” he responded, Jihoon lifting his hips obligingly, Mingyu pulling both his pants and underwear off at once. Mingyu then sucked at the skin of his inner thigh, and when he grazed it with his teeth Jihoon swallowed around a gasp, sitting up. 

“You… You shouldn’t—” he started. Mingyu was pressing biting kisses higher up, and if he put Jihoon’s dick in his mouth, Jihoon wouldn’t last nearly as long as he wanted too. He lifted Mingyu from him with gentle fingers under his chin, Mingyu’s mouth still open; Jihoon slipped his thumb between Mingyu’s parted lips, pressing into the wet warm muscle of Mingyu’s tongue. 

Mingyu closed his lips around Jihoon’s thumb, meeting Jihoon’s eyes and sucking hard. Jihoon’s dick twitched, and he felt breathless. He could—he could come just from this, just from looking at Mingyu like this, pulling his thumb from Mingyu’s mouth, sliding the wet pad of the finger across the fullness of Mingyu’s bottom lip. 

“Please,” Mingyu murmured, holding Jihoon’s gaze. “Please; I want to make you feel good.” 

Jihoon couldn’t have said no, even if he wanted to. Mingyu was going to be the death of him. 

“Fuck,” was all he managed out, but they knew each other well enough—Mingyu knew that was a yes, and before Jihoon could breathe Mingyu was on him, wet lips sliding down fast, Jihoon’s hips canting up involuntarily. Mingyu still managed to swallow around him, though he moved his hands up to grip at Jihoon’s hips, holding him still, fingers pressing in hard. Jihoon found himself wondering if Mingyu would leave bruises on him again, the thought alone causing his hips to jerk. 

Mingyu, always unable to be quiet, was making these small sounds, small vibrations against his tongue, things Jihoon knew were positive responses to the way his body was reacting to Mingyu’s touches, and that alone was so hot that Jihoon had to push with as much strength as he had—which wasn’t much, every part of him so ready to just give in—against Mingyu’s shoulders. 

Mingyu did pull off, but again, looked confused; Jihoon didn’t know how to explain to him that it was different, now that there truly and openly were feelings involved, that everything was more and stronger and worse in the _best_ way, and it was almost too much for his body to handle. 

“Mingyu, if you don’t stop, I’m—I’ll—”

“Jihoon.” Mingyu smiled, and his eyes held a fond amusement, such a juxtaposition to his wet, abused mouth that Jihoon’s eyes wanted to roll back in his head a little. “Yeah, I know you will. What do you think I’m doing this for?”

Jihoon gave a breathy laugh. “But—if I—”

“We have all day.” Mingyu leaned in, pressing another kiss to Jihoon’s thigh. “I’ll get you hard again, don’t worry.”

Jihoon had to reach down and touch Mingyu then, just to make sure he was real. Mingyu took that as a sign to continue—it wasn’t _not_ one—sinking his mouth down and around Jihoon’s cock again. 

Jihoon truly didn’t last long after that, his hand curling in Mingyu’s hair, the only thing grounding him as Mingyu kept his hips in place, despite Jihoon’s inability to hold still the closer and closer he got to coming. Mingyu completely unraveled Jihoon with his mouth, Jihoon whimpering curses through bitten lips and gripping hard to Mingyu’s hair as he came, Mingyu only letting his fingers loosen when all Jihoon had left to offer were spent, small thrusts across his tongue. 

Jihoon let Mingyu’s hair go—he knew Mingyu didn’t need him to apologize for the small amount of pulling he’d done, despite feeling a bit bad about it—and extended his arms behind himself to lean against his palms, finding even his biceps shaky. Mingyu sucked another hickey into the quivering muscle of his thigh before pulling back as though to admire his handiwork, red bites against pale skin. Then he rested his cheek on Jihoon’s knee, looking up at him, meeting his eyes, Jihoon letting out the closest approximation he could manage to a steady exhale. Then he realized something that surprised a curse out of him.

Mingyu was still fully clothed. 

“Let me—fuck, Mingyu.” Jihoon grabbed at him, Mingyu getting up obligingly with the tugging Jihoon was doing to his shirt. 

“What?” Mingyu asked.

“You need to be naked. Now.” 

Mingyu let out a loud, happy laugh, pulling his shirt up over his head, shimmying his jeans off with Jihoon’s help before bowling him over on the bed, pressing his lips to Jihoon’s, Jihoon falling flat against the mattress. And while Jihoon was very satisfied to have Mingyu completely smothering him, he wanted to be all over Mingyu instead, wanted to kiss Mingyu everywhere, turning them over and sucking a biting kiss to the firm muscle of Mingyu’s chest. 

Mingyu was so lovely like this, his tan, naked skin against Jihoon’s white bed sheets, his warm, liquid-brown eyes, his pink, kiss-bitten mouth. Upon looking at him, that want rose in Jihoon’s chest again, the desire to press himself in as close as he could to Mingyu and never let him go. But now, Jihoon felt that he might just be allowed to; he pushed Mingyu’s hair from his face, trailing his fingers down to cup Mingyu’s cheek. Mingyu held his gaze, Jihoon leaning down to kiss his lips. 

“You’re so handsome,” Jihoon told him, an internal thought that he hadn’t truly meant to vocalize, but was glad he did; Mingyu sighed into the words, his eyes falling closed as Jihoon kissed him again. They stayed closed as Jihoon kissed down his neck, his dick hard, long, and slick against Jihoon’s lower belly. Mingyu had already been fully hard when his pants had come off, and now had precome leaking thinly onto his stomach at Jihoon’s light touches and sweet words. “You make me feel so good. So good. You’re so fucking sexy.” 

A small whine rose from Mingyu’s throat, shifting his hips up slightly, just barely grinding into Jihoon’s abdomen. The spark of want reignited in Jihoon’s stomach, bright. Part of him just wanted to return the favor and get Mingyu off now, like this, but that felt too quick. It didn’t feel like enough. He took his time, pressing kisses across Mingyu’s body, and when he made his way up to Mingyu’s jaw, Mingyu turned his head to capture his lips and kiss him back with a hunger Jihoon hadn’t been expecting. 

“Fuck me,” Jihoon murmured against his mouth, and Mingyu’s inhale was sharp.

“Are you—”

“Yes. I’m ready.” His body felt hot all over, his skin buzzing, knowing it wouldn’t take much more than another solid kiss to start getting him hard again. And kiss him Mingyu did, finding Jihoon’s hips with big warm hands, sliding down to the curve of his ass. “Please.” 

“Fuck, Jihoon.” Mingyu sat up, Jihoon still in his lap, reaching towards Jihoon’s bedside table for the lube. Jihoon knew that he was always more sensitive after he’d already had an orgasm, but didn’t expect the gasp that jerked through him as Mingyu began to stretch him open. 

“Alright?” Mingyu asked him, Jihoon nodding through a few open-mouthed breaths, every muscle tight and quivering. “Just relax.” 

“No, it—” Jihoon tried to, tried to do that, then Mingyu curled the two wide fingers he had inside Jihoon and his lower back arched slightly up off the bed, gasping. “Feels good, so good, just…”

Mingyu stilled, prompting him to continue with a hum, light concern on his face. Jihoon lifted his head to look at Mingyu, knowing his body was flushed all the way down his chest, taking a deep breath. 

“Just… Why is everything about you so big?” he asked weakly, and Mingyu barked out a surprised laugh, leaning in to press a kiss to Jihoon’s forehead. 

By the time Mingyu added a third finger Jihoon was trembling again, so overstimulated but mortifyingly needy at the same time, wanting Mingyu to hurry. 

“Please,” he whined, “please, please, Mingyu—”

Mingyu leaned in close, running a hand down his chest. 

“You’re sure?” Mingyu asked, Jihoon nodding, biting down on his lip to keep himself from begging a fourth time. His entire body was a live wire, exposed and bright and about to catch fire, and if he was going to come around Mingyu’s dick instead of his fingers like he desperately wanted to, he needed Mingyu now. 

“Okay,” Mingyu kissed him, murmuring against his mouth. “Okay, okay, Jihoon. I’ve got you.” 

Mingyu lined himself up, then held onto the small of Jihoon’s waist. His large hands kept Jihoon in place as he sunk inside of him, and Jihoon felt his body jolt helplessly, so raw with sensation that his mind seemed to blur. Then Mingyu’s mouth found his, kissing him with aching carefulness, reaching down to stroke Jihoon a few more times as he elbowed his quivering thighs apart a little farther.

Jihoon heard Mingyu’s breath hitch, felt Mingyu shake. When Mingyu leaned in, pushing impossibly closer, and leaned down to him, pressing a few kisses to the hot skin of Jihoon’s face and neck, Jihoon caught his jaw with a hand, murmuring senseless sounds against his mouth. He wanted to give Mingyu permission to move, but he couldn’t quite get the words out; he wanted Mingyu to be selfish, to just take, and take, and take. He squeezed at Mingyu’s shoulder, giving him a small nod.

“Yeah?” Mingyu asked, after a quiet moment. Jihoon nodded again. 

“Please,” he finally managed, Mingyu’s voice near reverent as he cursed and said his name, sliding out slowly and pushing back in, the hot, slick stretch making Jihoon tremble. So good, so good. So full, and his mouth opened again, the words forced out as Mingyu rolled into him, like there wasn’t enough room for all these feelings and all of Mingyu at the same time.

“I love you, I love you, fuck, I— _Mingyu—”_

A high, desperate sound left Mingyu’s lips and his mouth was on Jihoon again, all lips and tongue, messy and wet, trailing down and sucking a kiss into Jihoon’s collarbone. He thrust in harder, Jihoon’s thighs lifting off the mattress as they shook to wrap loosely around him. 

“I love—” he couldn’t stop, breathless, the words raw as they spilled out of him, Mingyu fervently picking up the pace. “I—”

Mingyu took mercy on him and kissed him quiet. 

Jihoon pulled Mingyu close with trailing fingers. He had to keep his lips either bitten between his teeth or on Mingyu’s hot skin to keep more declarations from coming out, choked and stuttered and wanting. He let his hands traverse Mingyu’s body, touching everywhere he could reach, scratching, squeezing, letting his fingertips dig in. 

“Good—” Mingyu was on him before Jihoon could get anything more than the one word out, kissing him hard, Jihoon giving the words another try once he could breathe again. “Feels so good, you’re so good, Mingyu, please, _please—”_

Mingyu was moaning loudly, gasping like he was the one getting fucked, and Jihoon rolled his hips up to meet him, clenching to feel the slick drag of Mingyu pulling out, pushing back in. 

“Close,” Mingyu panted, reaching to take Jihoon’s cock in his hand, because he was emotional and sentimental and had told Jihoon once that he liked it when they came at the same time. Jihoon was too sensitive, too wound up and strung out to be touched like that, heaving exhales that left his throat as whines, his whole body shaking, curling up into Mingyu’s touch. 

“Love you, Mingyu, _Mingyu, fuck—”_ Breath completely left Jihoon’s lungs as he came, and it seemed to be the words, more than anything else, that had Mingyu coming too, pushing in deep, burying his face into Jihoon’s neck. Jihoon held him as he trembled, pressing kisses across his shoulder, trailing fingers down his back. 

It was a full-body wince and sigh when Mingyu pulled out, who disregarded the sticky, sweaty mess their bodies had become to press close and lean in. Jihoon let him, still a bit caught up in trying to breathe when Mingyu spoke. 

“You should have told me,” he said. 

“What?”

“That your love language was getting railed into the headboard.” 

Embarrassment flushed through Jihoon’s body as he choked out a laugh, Mingyu laughing too, slinging an arm across Jihoon’s abdomen. Jihoon knew he must be blushing, knew by the bright affection in Mingyu’s eyes as he pressed kisses to the pinkest parts of Jihoon; the tip of his nose, his cheeks, the tops of his ears. 

“Really?” Jihoon decided to ask. “You couldn’t tell?”

Mingyu hummed. “Thought it was food.”

“I like food.”

“Like getting railed too, I guess.”

“I hate you,” Jihoon told him, turning to push his face into Mingyu’s damp chest. Mingyu kissed his head. 

“Yeah, I love you too.” 

They laid there for a while, Jihoon completely, perfectly content. He almost began falling asleep, despite the tacky cooling of their skin, but Mingyu made a small sound of surprise that had Jihoon glancing at him. 

“What?”

“It’s just weird,” he said. “Usually Eisa would be bothering us by now.” 

Mingyu was right; the door was closed, but no cat was scratching at it. Which was fine by Jihoon until he realized why, cursing and jumping from bed on unsteady legs. 

“What?” Mingyu called after him, getting up too, Jihoon stopping in his tracks as he entered the living room, his fears confirmed. “...oh.”

Catnip was _everywhere._ Eisa had managed to pop the lid of the container open and had flung it around the room, lying on her back in the middle of the mess, the tip of her tail twitching, her pupils so incredibly dilated that her eyes were almost black. 

“We need to clean this up,” Jihoon said, and Mingyu laughed. 

They needed to clean themselves up first, only doing a quick wipe down and tugging on pairs of sweatpants. Mingyu pulled the vacuum cleaner from Jihoon’s hall closet, Jihoon gathering Eisa into his arms as carefully as he could and taking her into the bathroom, placing her gently on the shower mat. 

“Please don’t freak out,” he requested, sitting with her while the vacuum cleaner whirred around the living room, “and if you’re going to throw up, please do it in the shower.”

She simply blinked up at him. 

Jihoon left her there and returned to the living room, collapsing onto the couch as he watched Mingyu put the vacuum away. 

“Is she going to be okay?” Mingyu asked, flopping against the couch cushions next to him, and Jihoon shrugged a bit. 

“Yeah. She might just be out of it for a couple of hours, and if she ate too much, she’ll throw up or something. It’s not really dangerous, though.” 

Mingyu laughed a little. “Sorry anyway,” he said, and Jihoon shook his head, kissing his cheek. The small gesture of affection seemed to surprise Mingyu, Jihoon liking the way he sat there, looking a bit stunned. 

“Want to date me?” Jihoon decided to ask. A smile broke out onto Mingyu’s face, and after a moment of looking over Jihoon he whined, collapsing onto Jihoon’s shoulder. Jihoon laughed a bit, running a hand through Mingyu’s hair. “What? What are you doing?”

“Yes,” Mingyu murmured into his neck. “Yes, I do.”

“So why are you hiding?” Jihoon asked him, both confused and amused. “You—you told me you loved me already. This part should be easy.”

“I didn’t expect you to just ask like that,” Mingyu confessed, lifting his head. He was still smiling, a brilliant blush on his face, and Jihoon adored it, adored him, tugging Mingyu down and deciding to kiss him for as long as he could get away with it. 

Which, with a cat too high out of her mind to bother them, turned out to be a very long time. 

**Author's Note:**

> I anticipated this being ~8k.... and then told my beta reader that if it fic passed 11K she could hit me in the head with a shovel. and you can see how that turned out for me. but [I'm on twitter](https://twitter.com/sudamasochist) if you wanna talk!


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